A Trickster's Christmas
by traveller19
Summary: Loki has been looking forward to his first Christmas celebration with the Avengers for quite some time. But when an illness threatens to ruin his holiday, it's up to Loki's brother and friends to show him exactly what Christmas means: a sense of belonging and being with the people you love.
1. A Ruined Christmas?

A/N: Hello readers, and welcome to my happy dream where Loki has rediscovered what it means to have a family and friends, and has joined the Avengers. I hope you enjoy my little Christmas story. It is completely finished-it's just a matter of uploading, so the updates will come very quickly! It's not slash, so don't worry. Just fluffy friendship and brotherly love. :) Enjoy and please review!

"Well, the good news is, you're definitely starting to get better." Dr. Bruce Banner removed the diaphragm of his stethoscope from Loki's chest with an encouraging smile. The god of mischief had been quite ill the past couple of weeks. What had begun as a neglected cold ("Don't be silly, I've done battle on Jotunheim, surely a few hours in Central Park during one of your mild Midgardian winters will not make a shred of difference!") had turned into bronchitis and then into pneumonia. Despite a rigorous regimen of antibiotics, Loki had been in bed for over a week with a high fever and painful, uncontrollable cough. His condition had frightened his older brother to the point of being completely subdued, a terrifying thing in Thor. He hadn't left Loki's bedside for more than ten minutes since he had fallen ill. It had been sort of strange (and kind of unnerving, Bruce had to admit) to see the normally joyful and exuberant Thor suddenly become so perpetually upset and worried and yet quiet and gentle with his little brother. But even the mighty and powerful god of thunder could do nothing but hold Loki close and stroke his hair as the fever and coughing reduced him to a doubled-over, shaking shadow of his normally perfectly composed self.

One night, the fever had been so high that Loki had begun to have hallucinations, thinking that Thanos was chasing him, even though the team had permanently dealt with the Mad Titan months ago. Thor had managed to quell his brother's hoarse screams of terror, but when the weeping had begun, Loki had been positively inconsolable, despite his sobs making his cough all the worse. After hours of his brother bathing his forehead and murmuring soothingly to him, relating happy stories and memories from their childhood on Asgard, the utterly exhausted Loki had finally fallen asleep in Thor's arms. When Bruce had come to check on his patient, Thor, his eyes wide and brimming with tears and more fear than Bruce had ever seen from his courageous teammate, had asked him for the first time if it was possible he might lose his little brother. Bruce had quickly averted his gaze, but the pain and worry in those blue eyes had still made it feel like someone cut into his chest with a scissor and was shredding his heart into ribbons. He had wanted to so much to just say no, of course Loki would be fine. But he knew that would be lying, and lying made him feel disgusting-dirty inside. Especially if he was lying to someone who was looking at him with those enormous, scared-puppy eyes. So Bruce had said nothing, and had turned his attention to taking Loki's temperature in order to avoid any further conversation. But Thor had taken his meaning, and had closed his eyes and placed a kiss on top of Loki's head, tears falling into the sweaty black hair.

But finally, the previous night (December twenty-second), Loki's fever had broken and had not returned. He had slept most of the day, waking only to take his medicine, drink some water, and eat a little bit of chicken noodle soup for lunch. Tony had been plastering him with the stuff by the gallon, or at least trying to-Loki hadn't had much of an appetite. But Tony kept optimistically producing more of it all the same, and Bruce had begun to wonder if he was keeping cauldrons full of the stuff somewhere in the tower. And the weirdest part was, Bruce happened to know for an unquestionable fact that Tony Stark _hated_ chicken noodle soup.

Thor brightened like an incandescent lightbulb that had been switched on when Bruce given his almost-medical-doctor's-dropped-out-just-before-graduating-medical-school-so-nearly-professional opinion of Loki's prognosis. The thunderer was sitting on the edge of Loki's bed, and he reached over and squeezed his brother's hand, his face finally alight again after so many days of shadowy darkness and worry.

"Did you hear that, brother? Your health is returning!"

"I'm not deaf, you silly oaf." Loki rolled his eyes but smiled as he leaned back against Thor's broad shoulder, his relief at the news obvious. Then, in a much more polite tone, he addressed Bruce. "And what of the bad news?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He really ought to have chosen his diction better. He quickly tried to cover his slip-up. "What bad news? Your fever's broken, your lungs are beginning to sound better, and you told me yourself you're already starting to feel stronger after resting today. I'd say there's not a whole lot of room for bad news."

Loki studied him critically. It was obvious he wasn't buying it for a second. Bruce sighed. He supposed it served him right. Who was he to think he could pull off lying to the god of lies?

"You said 'the good news' was that I'm starting to get well. When people say 'the good news', that always means that there is accompanying bad news." Despite his illness rendering him hoarse and even more soft-spoken than normal, Loki still managed to sound like an overly-patient parent speaking to a small child. Bruce looked down at his hands, but Loki continued before he could speak. "No, it is all right, you do not have to tell me. I already know I will not be well in time for Christmas."

Bruce smiled sadly at him. "Um...yeah," he said softly. "You really do need to stay in bed. You need to give your body the time and rest it needs so your lungs can heal and you can get your strength back. Putting yourself through too much too soon could cause you to relapse."

At that word, Bruce saw Thor lay a protective hand on his brother's arm. He could see the disappointment evident on Loki's face. It was their first Christmas as a whole team. Although the Avengers were over a year old, last year they had been off doing their respective, well, _things_. Thor had been on Asgard, dealing with the aftermath of his brother's attempt to subjugate Earth as well as the looming threat of Thanos, and Loki had not joined the team until the battle with the mad Titan. Natasha and Clint had been stationed North Korea, monitoring a potential threat on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. Bruce was grateful that, after everything that had happened, they had at least been able to be together for the holiday. Steve had taken Fury's advice and had finally celebrated his unique blessing of beginning a new life seventy years after the end of his old one and decided to see the world. He had spent Christmas in Paris. Bruce, although anything but a romantic, was jealous all the same, especially when he thought of Betty. He and Tony and Pepper had made Christmas a quiet affair in Stark Tower, although no affair could really be called "quiet" when Tony Stark was involved. Bruce had made a mental note to keep a closer eye on his friend's alcohol and sugar intake in the future.

But this year, everyone was present in the tower, and Tony had been decorating like a madman since Black Friday. Or, more accurately, he had been writing programs that directed his robots to decorate like madmen. There were at least two dozen Christmas trees in Stark tower, and Bruce didn't want to think about how many miles of tinsel were strung throughout the floors. And then there were the outdoor Christmas lights. Thank God Stark Tower was 100% self-sustaining when it came to electricity.

Thor and Loki had naturally been rather confused at first, especially with Tony running around the tower singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs, although Loki had finally learned the origin of the term "Reindeer Games". The rather irritable god of mischief had almost set Tony's hair on fire when he decided he just couldn't take it anymore. Bruce didn't blame him, and would maybe have even encouraged him had it not been for the inherent danger in the prank. Thor, however, had listened with a wide grin on his face. Loki had drawn the line at him attempting to learn the words, saying he didn't think he could handle two caterwauling idiots, especially since neither of them were particularly good singers in the first place.

But other than the carols, both Asgardians had enjoyed learning about the traditions and customs associated with the holiday, including the Christmas story itself. Of course, the potency of the story was helped even more by the fact that it was told by Captain America, but Bruce had expected that explaining the fundamental aspects of Christianity to two Norse Gods would have been a lot harder. But they had both just soaked it up like any other good story, and had taken away from it the general idea of love and giving back that permeated the season. Since their brotherly relationship had been restored, Thor and Loki had grown closer to each other than ever before, with Thor unceasingly helping his brother to rebuild his shaken trust and sense of self-worth. Therefore, the idea of family was incredibly important to both of them, and consequently they were especially taken with the emphasis placed on this particular value during the holiday season. Thor had always considered the team his family, but Loki, having a rather tumultuous history with the Avengers (and that was putting it lightly), had been really looking forward to this opportunity to celebrate with his new friends and feel included. And Bruce suspected that now, by not being able to participate in the festivities, Loki felt as though he was letting everyone else down. He reached out to pat his friend's shoulder sympathetically.

"I'm really sorry, Loki. I know you must be disappointed."

Loki smiled weakly at him. "Do not apologize-this is anything but your fault. You have been so very kind to me, Dr. Banner-I shudder to think what might have happened to me had you not provided me with such gentle and meticulous care. Besides, this entire ordeal is my fault, anyway. You warned me not to go ice-skating with Stark and Captain Rogers the moment I came down with a cold." That was quite a long speech for Loki, and he broke into a coughing fit, reaffirming Bruce's decision to keep him in bed. But the doctor took heart in the fact that, although the paroxysms still caused Loki to wince, he did not seem to be in as much pain as before.

"Technically, you're not quite right," he said when Loki was able to breathe normally again. "Colds are caused by viruses, but you have bacterial pneumonia. You would have come down with it anyway."

"So you'd mentioned. But the ice-skating certainly couldn't have helped, could it?" The fact that Loki appeared to be forcing himself as a scapegoat made Bruce feel a little sad. He suspected this was a manifestation of Loki's guilt for ruining everyone else's Christmas. Not that he actually had-he just _thought_ that he had. Although, once it had become clear that Loki was seriously ill, Tony had stopped singing Christmas carols, and everyone in the tower had assumed a much quieter air than normal, even Clint. The holiday had been pushed into the back of their minds in favor of just hoping that Loki would recover-somehow tinsel and carols and even presents had seemed unimportant when their friend was so sick.

"No," answered Bruce honestly. "But no one blames you."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. Bruce got to his feet before he could say anything else.

"You should eat some dinner and then try to rest more. I'll come check on you again when it's time for your bedtime meds. Are you thoroughly sick of chicken noodle soup yet?"

Loki chuckled softly. "Surprisingly, no. It sounds better than anything else right now. It warms me and eases the stuffiness in my chest. Besides, I haven't really eaten that much of it the past few days."

"Well, I know Tony will be glad to hear his soup-making efforts are appreciated. I'll tell him to send a bowl up."


	2. Kittens, Coughs, and Chicken Noodle Soup

When Bruce left, Thor asked Loki if he would like the television turned on while he waited for his dinner. Loki nodded, glad for some form of distraction from his disappointment. He knew that he should be joyous at the news of his pending recovery, especially since it had made Thor so happy. Seeing his brother so worried had hurt as much as his lung infection, and Loki had wanted desperately to reassure Thor, but he had felt so ill these past few days that he just had not been able to find the strength to do so. Thor's smile was back now, but Loki had to force one in return. He was being incredibly selfish, he knew, but wasn't he a bit entitled to it? He had been looking forward very much to the Midgardian celebration. After all of the difficult events in his life over the past two years, he was very much ready for a celebration with his new friends. And they had all been so kind as to tell him and Thor of the customs associated with their Christmas. But now he would not be participating in the festivities after all, and he could not help but feel as though he was letting the rest of his team down. He knew that Stark in particular had been eagerly anticipating seeing the reactions of the two Asgardians to the holiday. Well, at least he would still have one Asgardian, Loki thought miserably. No doubt Thor would still provide plenty of laughs for the fun-loving Stark. He felt his heart clench. It was the thought of not being able to spend this new holiday, which seemed to place so much emphasis on family, with his dear brother that hurt Loki the most. He knew that Thor would want to stay with him, would insist upon it, but Loki would insist harder. He was well enough now that he did not need someone at his side every moment, and Thor could very well go and have a good time with their friends without being weighed down by his invalid little brother.

Thor had flipped through the channels until he had found something suitable, and then had put the remote control down and was now studying Loki.

"What troubles you, brother? Are you feeling poorly again?" He worriedly placed the back of his hand on Loki's forehead, but Loki reached up with a small, affectionate smile and removed it.

"No, I am feeling much better," he said softly, placing his brother's large hand on the bed and patting it. Then, rather impulsively, he leaned over to nestle his head on Thor's shoulder.

"Well, you are quiet affectionate this evening," boomed Thor with a chuckle, ruffling Loki's hair lightly. Then, his voice grew serious with understanding. "You are upset about missing the holiday?"

Loki did not answer, choosing instead to press himself even closer to his brother, hoping Thor would drop the subject. But his trickster's ability to put on a convincing facade had obviously been compromised by his illness, for apparently Thor could read him like an open book.

"That is it, then. And I do not blame you-it did promise to be a joyous affair. But there is always next year, brother, now that you are a part of our team."

There is was, as Loki had predicted. "What do you mean 'it _did_ promise to be a joyous affair'? You are still celebrating with our friends." Thor looked as though he were going to protest, but Loki summoned his strength to interrupt his attempt. "I am not letting you _not_ celebrate, Thor. I refuse to ruin things even more..."

_Damn._ He shouldn't speak so much yet. By the Norns, it still hurt terribly to cough. Thor rubbed soft circles into his back until the fit passed. They sat in silence for a while then, with Loki still pressed into his brother's side. He was rapidly becoming aware of his exhaustion, despite having slept for the entire day. He would really have been content to not continue with this conversation, to just fall asleep into Thor and pretend this silly Midgardian holiday did not exist. But when he heard his brother's voice, gentle but firm, he knew that this was not to be.

"Loki."

He sighed softly.

"Loki, look at me."

He turned and did so, his tired green eyes meeting his brother's expansive blue ones. Thor reached out to tuck a stray lock of black hair, mussed from fever and sleep, behind Loki's ear, and then lowered his hand so that it rested on his brother's arm.

"Allow me to make clear some things. First of all, you absolutely have _not_ ruined anyone's Christmas." Loki opened his mouth to protest, but this time Thor gained the upper conversational hand. "No one blames you for being ill. Sometimes these things just happen, and everyone knows there isn't a thing you can do about them. We are all just glad that you are finally recovering-which leads me to my second point. Somewhere beneath Stark's loud songs and all of the shiny gold...what does he call it?...Tinsel!...and people buying gifts for each other and then keeping them a secret, I think I managed to glean what this celebration actually means from Captain Rogers's story. It's about love, and being with the ones you love. And there's no gift, absolutely _nothing_ I could ever ask for that would mean more to me than having you well again. You mean more to me than all of the Nine Realms combined, Loki. You know that, don't you?" Thor finally ended his monologue with the question and searched Loki's gaze imploringly.

Loki had meant with all of himself to force Thor not to worry about him on Christmas and make merry with the rest of the team. But at Thor's heartfelt speech, he felt his resolve crumble into a million pieces, and he fell weakly into his brother's embrace and murmured into his shoulder, his voice muffled by Thor's shirt.

"Of course I do, you wonderful idiot."

He felt more than heard his brother chuckle softly, and they stayed that way for a couple of minutes, with Loki feeling more content and comfortable than he had in days. But then a thought crossed his mind, and he pulled away from Thor, furrowing his brow.

"By the way, when did you get so insightful? And eloquent? If I did not know better, I would think you were becoming...me."

Thor laughed again, loud and jovially this time, returning to himself as Loki knew him.

"I think it is all the time we have been spending together these past few months. If you are not careful, you might find yourself developing a propensity for loud speech and hammering things."

"In that case, I am cutting off all relations with you as soon as I am well. I shall move to Siberia and never speak to you again." He would have continued, but Thor was already in stitches. Loki just smiled, feeling more contented after their conversation.

They turned their attention to the television after that. Thor had chosen the channel called "Animal Planet", which was giving a program entitled "Too Cute", which he told Loki he thought he would like. The show had very little plot and simply catalogued the lives of several litters of kittens from birth through the first few months of their lives. Cats were a new concept to both of them-while Asgard had similar creatures, they were larger and more wild-very few people bothered to put the time into taming them. But apparently many Midgardians kept these small, furry creatures as household pets.

Loki had first become interested in cats a couple of months prior, when Tony had decided it was time that his out-of-place companions see what New York City really had to offer and had taken Loki, Thor, Bruce, and Steve on a shopping trip. They had been walking along the storefronts, admiring the merchandise through the windows when they had come to a pet shop. Several fluffy, golden puppies were visible through the window, bumbling around in their enclosure and wagging their tails excitedly. The Incredible Hulk would not have been able to hold Steve and Thor back when they saw them. By the time Loki, Tony, and Bruce had joined their companions in the shop, Steve and Thor had been on the floor, covered in Golden Retriever puppies. Apparently Captain America was an enthusiastic dog lover, and Loki had not seen his brother so utterly child-like in centuries.

Tony and Bruce had stood and laughed at them for a couple of minutes, but had finally caved and each picked up a puppy to cuddle. Loki, not wanting to feel left out, had chosen what seemed to be the least rambunctious puppy and held it for a few minutes, but, as cute as it was, he quickly grew tired of the constant squirming and licking. He had handed the puppy to his brother, who already had three of its brothers and sisters on his lap, and left his friends to see creatures inhabited the rest of the store. There were several other breeds of puppies, mice, rats, rabbits, lizards, and many different varieties of fish. Loki had stood admiring the beautiful colors of some aquatic creatures whose sign labelled them as "bettas" when he had heard a soft noise from behind him.

"_Me-ow._"

He had turned to see a tall-sided enclosure that contained eight small balls of fluff. One was looking curiously at him, and then, as he watched, spoke to him again.

"_Rrrrrow_!"

"Hello," Loki had said. After studying the creature for a moment longer, he had stood on his toes (even with his impressive stature, it was difficult to reach over the wall of the enclosure) and scooped up the little black-and-white ball. As soon as he removed it from the cage, the fluffy thing began to make a rumbling noise in its throat. At first, Loki was startled, thinking that perhaps the little thing was in some form of distress, but then the creature had closed its eyes in contentment and leaned its head into Loki's chest. He cradled it with one hand and stroked its tiny head with his index finger, enjoying the feel of the soft, ever-present rumble next to his heart. This creature was much more likable than the puppy, he thought. Puppies were rambunctious and enthusiastic and reminded him very much of his brother. That was to say, he loved his brother very much, and he liked puppies, but this little creature was more like...well, _him_. Quiet and calm, and...

"Ouch!" His response arose more from being in startled than in much pain. While Loki had been lost in thought, the ball of fur in his arms had nipped his finger playfully.

_And mischievous_, thought Loki with a chuckle. _Very much like me, indeed._

After a while, Tony had decided that it was time to move on. The puppies had been (reluctantly) returned to their enclosure, and Loki's friends had found him in the back of the store.

"Hey Bag O' Cats, whatcha got there?" Tony had asked, peering over Loki's shoulder to see what he was holding. Loki had turned around to show him.

"I like it," he had stated matter-of-factly. Then, furrowing his brow a little, he had asked, "What is it?"

Tony laughed and reached out to scratch the little thing behind its ear. "I guess Bruce created an even better metaphor than we originally thought. It's actually a cat-or a baby one, anyway. That's a kitten, Loki."

"You are very adorable, little kitten," Loki crooned. Then he had asked Tony, "Do they get much bigger?"

"Uh, sort of." Tony had demonstrated the approximate average size with his hands. "Look, it's past lunchtime and the Thunderous Wonder over here is going to eat _me_ if we don't find a sub shop soon. If you want to learn more, I'm sure I own at least one book on cats. And there's always the internet."

Loki had nodded and sadly set the kitten back down, bidding it and its siblings a farewell. From that day on, the scholarly god of mischief had learned everything he could about the little creatures. Normally, he found most aspects of Migardian life inferior to Asgardian life-the food, the weather, the silly metal boxes that the humans employed to get from place to place. But this time, although he hated to admit it, even just to himself, he was almost _envious_ of this realm for having these lovely little furry animals when his home did not. Occasionally he wondered if Tony Stark would ever consider acquiring a cat for the tower. Probably not, he thought. The mental image of the genius staring down a stubborn feline made Loki laugh.

He smiled at the television now as three little tabby kittens pounced on a toy made of colorful feathers, and he heard Thor chuckle.

"They are rather cute, are they not, brother? I can see why you like them so much."

Loki grinned at him. "Yes, something about them just warms the heart."

"They remind me a little of you, you know." Thor's tone was tender. Loki raised an eyebrow, counteracting the warmth in his brother's voice with a little light-hearted tease in his own.

"What, because _I_ warm your heart?"

"Amongst other things." Thor laughed in that low rumble that never failed to make Loki smile right along with him. He would have come back with another remark if Tony Stark had not entered at that moment, carrying a tray of chamomile tea, a cup of applesauce, and, of course, a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.

"I come bearing gifts of sustenance!" Tony loved to mock Thor's and Loki's way of speaking. Normally this usually just caused Loki to roll his eyes, but it was entertaining for both him and Stark when Thor completely missed the fact that he was being poked fun at. Which was most of the time.

"Thank you, Stark," said Loki as his friend set the tray down on the bedside table. Although the tower was equipped with an Artificial Intelligence combined with a mechanical system that could easily have brought Loki his dinner without Stark even having to leave his workshop, Tony always chose to bring Loki's meals in person. He said it was because walking around the tower was good exercise, but Loki knew it was really because Stark wanted to check on him.

"Hey, Bruce told me the good news. I'm really glad you're getting better-we all are. Tower's just not the same without you combining Diet Coke and Mentos and magically making it come out of all the shower heads."

Loki smiled at the mention of one of his personal favorite pranks. The strange Midgardian sweets and drink had come in rather handy when it came to fulfilling his innate need for trickery.

"How are you feeling?" Stark asked. He regarded Loki with one of his rare, genuine smiles that held not a trace of mockery or sarcasm. Loki returned it with one of his equally rare smiles of the same sort.

"Much better than I was, thank you. I'm just very tired, and I've still got this confounded cough." The accursed thing came back just then, as if on cue. Loki wondered if he would _ever_ stop coughing. But then he felt Thor squeeze his arm, seeming to confer some of the thunderer's strength to Loki through his touch, and soon the fit passed. Tony was looking sympathetically at him, but Loki would have none of it. Under the force of the acerbic glare of the god of mischief, Tony Stark turned his attention to the television. As he watched the screen, first one eyebrow went up, and then the other. And then he started laughing. And _kept_ laughing. Thor and Loki looked on, both a bit concerned for their friend. Finally, Stark managed to gasp out,

"Oh my God! You two...are watching..._Too Cute_! This is...TOO CUTE!"

"I do not understand." Thor looked thoroughly confused by this point.

Tony managed to quell his laughter long enough to explain. "Let me explain to you what I'm seeing here. What I'm seeing are two Norse gods watching a TV show about _kittens_. Kittens!" When neither of them seemed enlightened as to why this was so funny, Tony finally gave up. "You know, why do I even bother with you guys? You have no idea. Aw, whatever. So Loki, you still a cat fan?"

"If you mean to ask if I still harbor a strong liking for and deep appreciation of domestic felines, the answer is yes."

"Yeah, they are pretty cute," Tony consented. He observed Thor and Loki for a few moments as they watched the program, and then spoke again, this time to Thor.

"Hey Bottomless Pit, if you're not as into chicken noodle soup as your baby bro, we have stir fry going on downstairs. Christmas Eve Eve tradition." He winked at Loki, who tried his very best to cover up the saddened look that took over his features at the mention of the holiday that he would be missing. He hoped he had not failed too miserably. If he had noticed the change, Stark did not comment.

"Thank you, Stark, but I was planning to keep Loki company this evening..." Thor began, but Loki decided that now was the time to put this nonsense to a stop before it could go any further.

"Thor, please go with Stark and eat dinner with our friends. I can manage here perfectly well by myself." When Thor did not look entirely convinced, he added an earnest "Really."

His brother still did not seem to believe him. "But won't you be lonely up here all by yourself? I don't mind staying at all, I love spending time with you..."

"I am afraid I shan't be good company at all, Thor. I'm very tired. I intend to eat my dinner and then go right to sleep."

Thor studied him critically for a moment. "Are you sure?"

Loki smiled patiently. "Entirely sure. And I promise to order JARVIS to inform you if I need _anything_."

There was another pause, and then Thor finally gave in. "All right. I hope you rest comfortably. I will see you soon."

"Enjoy your stir fry. Whatever that is," Loki responded as Thor and Stark left the room. He was glad that he had managed to convince his rather smothering and overprotective elder brother to finally go and take some time for himself-after all, Thor had loyally spent every moment at his side while he was ill. Although it made Loki's stomach feel sick to even think about it, he did not believe that he would have survived without Thor's protective and loving arms around him. It had given him something to cling to. But as much as he knew Thor deserved some time off, he was admittedly sad to see him go, even if they were still in the same building and it was only just for a couple of hours. He had come so far from the broken thing he had been as little as a year ago, so full of hatred and in complete denial of his love for Thor and his brother's love for him.

But at least he had achieved _something_. The Avengers were still going to have a nice Christmas, even if it meant completely forgetting he existed.


	3. Problems and Solutions

Tony couldn't help but smile as he watched Thor dig into the heaping mound of chicken, peppers, onions, and rice on his plate. The god of thunder could _eat_ like no one he had ever met. Hell, Thor ate more than Tony drank. And that was saying a lot.

Thor apparently noticed him watching, for he looked up from his plate and, with a mouth full of food, said,

"This stir fry, I like it!"

Tony grinned. "I'm glad you do, buddy."

He glanced around at the table. Pepper had gone home to see her family for Christmas this year, so it was just the six of them at the table. On one end, Clint and Natasha were eating quietly. Despite being officially boyfriend and girlfriend (Tony enjoyed using schoolyard terminology to tease his incredibly badass agent friends about their rather adorable romantic relationship), they tended not to do a whole lot of talking to each other in front of other people. And absolutely _no_ PDA, a fact which made Tony feel both relieved (because _ewwwww_) and kind of sad (it would have made fantastic teasing fodder). On the side of Tony that was not occupied by Thor, Steve sat talking with Bruce, who was next to him. Or more like talking _to_ Bruce. The nuclear physicist was socially awkward and perpetually quiet, but tonight he seemed even more lost in thought than normal. Tony suspected the reason, but he decided he needed to try to get this out of his friend anyway.

"Hey Bruce, are you okay?" Obviously Steve had noticed the doctor's reticence as well.

"Hmm?" Bruce looked up from the stir fry that he had been pushing absently around his plate.

"You don't seem to be listening to a word I'm saying. Which is fine, I'm not angry or anything," Steve clarified quickly, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Bruce opened and closed his mouth, looking like he wasn't going to spill, which was when Tony decided it was time for him to crash this party.

"Something's definitely bothering you, Big Guy. You can talk about it. You know you're safe here."

It wasn't often that Tony Stark brought out his truly earnest voice, but when he did, it was difficult for whoever it was directed at to resist. Tony knew this for an indisputable fact. Bruce caved.

"It's Loki," he began simply. That was all the farther he got before being interrupted by the incredibly concerned Thor, who luckily did not have a mouth full of stir fry this time.

"But you said my brother was recovering!" The thunder god's wide eyes searched Bruce's face imploringly, as though he were trying desperately to understand how he could have been lied to about something so terribly important.

"He is," said Bruce quickly, patting the air almost like he was dribbling two basketballs, a gesture obviously intended to calm Thor down. "Loki's pneumonia is clearing up well. It's just that I think he's really upset about missing Christmas."

_Aha._ So Tony _had_ been right then. Well, of course he had. He was a genius, after all.

"And what's worse is that he thinks he's ruined everyone else's Christmas, first by worrying everyone because he was sick and now because he'll be stuck in bed on Christmas Day. He thinks he's holding everyone else back from having a good time. And he's still not feeling great on top of it all. Add it all together and you get one pretty depressed Loki."

Thor sighed sadly, suddenly seeming far less interested in his stir fry. "I believe you are right, Dr. Banner. Although I did try to explain to my brother that no one blames him for being ill and that his recovery means far more to me than any celebration, I fear that he still harbors feelings of guilt for something that isn't even true. And he was very much looking forward to celebrating. We have both enjoyed learning about your Midgardian traditions associated with Christmas, and I know Loki was excited about the day itself."

Steve frowned, looking nearly as sad as Thor did. Captain America, though a strategical genius and fearsome fighter, took the hurts of every single person he ever met straight to heart-a heart that was probably made of pure gold. It made Tony nauseous.

"Poor Loki. He's still unsure of his place as a member of the team, and I doubt this is helping any. And pneumonia is no walk in the park." Steve's frown deepened, no doubt a result of painful memories of his rather sickly childhood.

_Mope, mope, mope. Poor Loki. We feel bad for Loki. _I_ feel bad for Loki, for God's sake. But moping's not going to get us anywhere. We're the Avengers. Time for some action._

"Okay, we have a problem, so we fix it." It was a simple, matter-of-fact statement, but it caused the other five people at the table to immediately focus on Tony.

Natasha cocked a ginger eyebrow. "How?"

He had a general idea, but no specifics, so Tony Stark did what he always did-he improvised as he went along.

"Let's break it down scientist-style." He winked at Bruce, who looked mildly amused. "The way I see it, we have three problems. Problem Number One, Loki's still feeling pretty crappy. Problem Number Two, Loki's upset about having to miss Christmas because he was looking forward to it. And Problem Number Three, Loki feels guilty because he thinks he's ruining everyone else's Christmas. Everybody good so far?"

Thor opened his mouth with a confused look on his face, but Tony waved a quieting hand at him.

"When I said 'good', I meant, 'does everyone understand?'"

Thor shut his mouth and nodded.

"Okay," Tony continued. "Now that we've established the problems, let's look at some possible solutions. It always seems like a good idea to me to start by solving the easiest problem first, and in this case that's looking like Problem Number Two. If I may call upon the illustrious Dr. Banner..." He turned to face Bruce, smiling broadly. Bruce rolled his eyes. "Could you please enlighten us as to the specific restrictions Loki must observe for the recovery and preservation of his good health?"

"He'll be on bed rest for at least another week." Bruce's tone was firm, and he was studying Tony suspiciously.

"Okay, so if he can't get out of bed and join the party, what if we bring the party to him? Not anything big," Tony quickly added, seeing Bruce was ready to protest. "I promise not to plan anything that would get him too excited. I can have JARVIS and the robots decorate his room while he sleeps so it'll be a surprise-they're _really_ quiet, I'm very proud of that-and we can bring in a little Christmas tree and open our presents in his room. We'll keep it really low-key. Get it? "Low-key", like "Loki"?...Okay, I get it, that was only funny the first one hundred and twelve times. But seriously though, I really do promise not to go overboard. The last thing I want to do is make him relapse or something. Really." Tony looked around, assessing the reactions of his audience, particularly two specific members. Thor looked apprehensive, torn between his brother's health and his happiness. Bruce looked as though he was thinking very hard, and he seemed aware that Tony was awaiting his verdict without explicitly asking for it.

"I guess that would be okay," said Bruce slowly, holding up a hand to signal to the eager Tony to wait to speak until he was finished. "But only if he gets plenty of rest from now until then and his cough doesn't get any worse."

"Dr. Banner, I shall see to it with the utmost attention that Loki rests adequately," said Thor with enthusiastic resolve.

"I know you will, Thor," said Bruce with a slight chuckle. "Okay Tony, you've got one problem covered. What about the others?"

Natasha spoke up, her voice characteristically quiet and thoughtful. "Maybe Tony's solution will actually solve the third problem as well. I mean, if we're all having a nice Christmas morning with Loki, then he'll see that he hasn't actually ruined anything, right?"

"Good thinking, Natasha," said Tony with a grin. She was the only one of their group that he did not risk calling any sort of nickname, not even when he had the on the suit. As much as he loved a good tease, Tony Stark was _not_ fond of the idea of getting his ass kicked by a Russian spy/master assassin. Especially when said Russian spy/master assassin was a girl, and more badass than any guy he'd ever met. He was pretty sure he'd rather go up against the Incredible Hulk, especially since none of his jabs had managed to come even close to infuriating Bruce yet. Yeah, much safer. "That was actually the problem I didn't really have a solution for, so thanks for bringing that up."

She gave him a slight smile-more of an acknowledgement than an acceptance of his thanks. Well, it would have to do.

"Okay, so that's Problems Two and Three down, which leaves us with Problem Number One. Unfortunately, none of us are miracle workers, so we can't actually make Loki not feel like crap, but I do have an idea for the world's most awesome Christmas-slash-get-well present _ever_."

They all looked at him curiously, but it was Steve who spoke up.

"Which would be...?"

Tony grinned mischievously. "You'll see, because you are going to help me pick it out, oh defender and protector of all small, cute, and cuddly things. I'd say suit up, but I think we should maybe keep this one on the down-low. So I guess...get your cuddling clothes on, because we, Captain America, are taking a trip to the humane society!"

Of course, in his enthusiasm, Tony had completely forgotten that by that time of night, the humane society was closed (an easy mistake to make), so the trip was postponed until the next morning, Christmas Eve Day. Steve had come with him under one condition-even though they were adopting a kitten, they were spending ten minutes with the puppies. And he wasn't asking permission, either. It was like the pet store all over again, minus Thor sprawled on the floor. Tony and Steve had left the thunder god at home to keep his convalescing brother company. If their (and by 'their', Tony meant Tony's) master plan was to be successful, Loki needed to get lots of rest, and they all knew that Loki slept better curled up next to Thor.

After Tony finally managed to drag Steve away from the puppies (why was Captain America so classically..._American_?), the two of them proceeded down the hall to the Kitten Room, which turned out to be just that-a room full of kittens. Apparently there were lots of baby cats running around the jurisdiction of the Greater Manhattan Humane Society during late December. Tony had to admit, it made him a little sad to see so many of the cute little bundles of fur locked up in cages and runs. All cats should really be free to roam a house and sleep on whatever soft surface they wanted, he thought.

Apparently, Steve shared his sentiments.

"Can't we take them all home, Tony? I mean, how big is your tower, really?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "One kitten, Steve. We get _one_ kitten."

Steve sighed. "Okay, fine. But where the heck do we start?"

Tony looked around the room, and then answered honestly, nearly having to shout over the din of mewling. "I have no idea."

Fortunately for the two rather overwhelmed feline-shoppers, just then a young woman entered. She wore dark blue scrubs, designating her as a humane society employee.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes!" Tony turned around, relieved. "I have no idea what that something is, but you can definitely help us with _something_."

"We're looking for a kitten," said Steve, rather unnecessarily. Tony had to fight not to roll his eyes again. Honestly, it would really be almost less frustrating to go shopping with Thor.

"Well, you've come to the right place," the girl said, smiling at Steve. _She's smiling pretty hard at Steve,_ observed Tony. _Dashing Captain America. You make me sick._

"We're looking for a particular kind of kitten, though," he spoke up. "Relatively calm, slightly rambunctious and really playful, but not all the time. It should really enjoy cuddling. Its new owner does the whole curl-up-with-a-good-book thing a lot. Preferably black or mostly black. He likes black. Actually, he likes green more, but I don't think kittens come in green..."

Steve was looking at him like he couldn't believe he was serious. _What? A girl is making googly eyes at you and you don't even notice and yet _I_ make one completely in-character off-the-wall comment and I'm the one acting dumb? Really, Captain Apple Pie? Really?_

"I think I actually have just the kitten you're looking for," the girl said, her face lighting up. She opened one of the cage doors and removed a tiny little ball of fluff and placed it in Steve's arms. Steve held the kitten so Tony could see it, too. It was a shorthair, its fur all black except for a patch of white on its chest and four white paws. And it had _green_ eyes. Seriously. Well, the look was definitely perfect. Tony could hear its rumbling purr as Steve cuddled it and stroked its head with his finger.

"Hey there, little kitty-kitty. Would you like to be our friend's new kitty? He's been pretty sick and kind of sad and I think you're just what he needs to cheer him up, yes you are, uh-huh..."

Tony _really_ wished he'd thought to have gotten Steve's visit to the animal shelter on camera. This was too funny. And disgusting.

"Hey kitty, I'm Tony," he said, annoyed that the puny little fluffball was getting more attention that he was. He stuck out his finger to rub the tiny head, but before he could react, minuscule claws darted out and swiped him, leaving little rivulets which quickly filled with blood.

"Ow!" yelped Tony, quickly shoving the injured finger in his mouth. "Stupid cat, you're about as bad as Loki," he said, his voice muffled.

Steve chuckled. "I think he'll do just fine," he said to the girl. He glanced quickly at Tony for confirmation. Tony, who was still sucking on his mutilated finger, rolled his eyes but did not protest. "We'll take him."

The shelter employee looked elated. "Oh, that's great! He's been here the longest of all the kittens. He's from a litter of ten, and all of his brothers and sisters were adopted almost immediately. They are all very outgoing, and most were calico females-very flashy, so people went for them really quickly. This little guy is a bit more reserved, both in appearance and temperament, and he got overlooked. We were starting to worry no one wanted him."

As they listened to the story, Tony saw Steve glance meaningfully at him, and he could tell they were both thinking the same thing. A reject, something no one wanted. They both knew someone else who had spent a long time feeling that way. Yeah, this was definitely the right cat.

_I am the most genius of all geniuses_, thought Tony with a grin. _And pretty lucky, I gotta admit._


	4. Merry Christmas, Loki!

_Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! This is the final chapter. I really hope you've enjoyed the story!_

Loki slept most of the twenty-fourth, as he had the previous day. He was still very tired, but he did feel a bit better than he had. The pain in his chest was not as intense, and he did not wake coughing as often. And when he was awake, for his medicine and to drink water-Dr. Banner had been making him drink a lot of water-he was not quite so lethargic. His mind felt clearer, and he was less shaky and weak. He still could not reach his magic, but he knew that he needed to be patient in that respect-exhaustion, injury, and illness of any sort were for him, the equivalent of the Midgardian Achilles Heel, for they made his magic weak or entirely inaccessible. But his powers always found their way back to him-he knew he just needed to wait.

The wait was made easier by Thor's presence. To Loki's secret delight, his brother stayed with him all day, even while he slept. He was very adamant that Loki get as much sleep as possible, even more so than the previous day. Loki was not about to argue-most of the time he still could not keep his eyes open. He supposed Thor was just worried about him, as usual. And if Loki sleeping would make Thor happy, then sleep Loki would. It was especially nice because Thor spent most of the day lying next to him, either napping himself or watching over Loki. Whenever Loki opened his eyes Thor would be there with a smile, asking how Loki was feeling, placing a steadying hand on his back when a coughing fit seized him, kissing his brow as he nodded off again. With Thor there to distract and comfort him, it was easier for Loki not to think about missing Christmas, so for someone who was recovering from pneumonia, he had all in all a very good day.

The next morning, the first thing Loki was aware of was Thor's thumb stroking his forehead. He lay there with his eyes closed, a smile curving on his lips.

"As the Midgardians say, Merry Christmas, brother."

The smile dissolved, and Loki decided right then and there that he was going to go straight back to sleep. How could Thor say something so insensitive as to remind him of the festivities he would be missing? Oh, because he was _Thor_. He was Loki's beloved protector and comforter, yes, but that did not change the fact that he was an insensitive oaf who rarely thought before he spoke.

Thor chuckled. "Open your eyes, Loki. I think you will find the action worthwhile."

Despite his resolve, Loki's confusion and curiosity got the better of him, and he opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep until Thor's face, a wide grin spread across it, came into view. But Thor was motioning past himself, and when Loki looked around the room, he realized exactly what his brother had been talking about.

His bedroom was covered from floor to ceiling in Christmas decorations. Stands of gold and silver tinsel ran the full length of the walls, from the top to the bottom. Holly leaves and berries and shiny spherical Christmas ornaments dangled from the many layers of tinsel, and tiny multi-colored lights twinkled at him from all sides. But the best part was the tree, standing all lit up and decorated just a few feet from the foot of his bed, and underneath it were mounds of boxes, all wrapped in different colors and patterns of paper.

Loki sat up slowly, gazing around him, lips parted in awe. He was not sure how long he sat there just _staring_, but it could very likely have been a full minute. Finally, Thor broke the silence.

"What do you think, brother? I would say Stark's silent robots did a very excellent job, don't you?"

Loki opened and closed his mouth, and then opened and closed his mouth again. Finally, he managed to stammer out,

"I...I...yes, it's beautiful. Oh Thor..."

He was saved from the tangling of his silver tongue by the opening of his bedroom door and the arrival of the rest of the team, all of whom greeted him with an enthusiastic "Merry Christmas, Loki!"

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, still not fully recovered from his awe at the new bedroom decor which had literally sprung up over night. He focused on Tony, whose robots Thor had said were responsible for the change.

"Stark...what _is_ this?"

Tony grinned proudly. "What, you didn't _really_ think we'd celebrate Christmas without you?"

"You're one of us now, Loki," said Steve with a warm smile. "It wasn't fair for you to be stuck in bed while the rest of us had a good time."

Loki looked around at his friends, ignoring what would have been the normally hilarious fact that they all still donned their nightclothes. "For once in my life, my silver tongue has truly been compromised. I do not know what to say, other than thank you, my friends."

"I know exactly what to say," said Tony with a smile, which he then threw meaningfully at Clint.

"Time for presents!" Clint plopped down on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. "Loki, Tony and I thought you'd sleep forever. The rest of these party-poopers made us wait until you woke up."

"It's like throwing a tennis ball and then holding back two Saint Bernards on leashes," said Bruce. He looked like he had done just that. Loki winced guilty.

"I am sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Bruce chuckled and then glanced at Clint, who had beaten Tony to opening the first gift and was currently tearing into a red-and-green-wrapped box with all the ferocity of a hawk tearing into a mouse. It did rather put a new perspective on the archer's nickname. "I think they've forgotten all about it by now."

"Okay...more arrows. Thanks, Tony..." Clint looked a little confused. Tony looked offended.

"Tsk, tsk, Legolas. You think I'd get you boring old, normal arrows? I designed these myself. They're heat-seeking."

Clint's expression completely changed. "Whoa. Dude. That's...that's pretty awesome. Thanks, man."

Natasha rolled her eyes at the sight of her boyfriend and Tony Stark brofisting. "Okay, someone else open a gift before I vomit."

And so began a morning full of giving, gratefulness, joy, and mounds and mounds of wrapping paper. Loki thoroughly enjoyed himself despite Thor and Bruce asking every five minutes if he felt tired. And he was more than pleased with the wonderfully thoughtful gifts his friends had gotten him. From Natasha, there was a wooden chess set. She shared his love of strategy and tactical planning, and she was the only person he had met on any of the Nine Realms who had ever beaten him at chess. But he had checkmated her just as many times, and now he foresaw many more intense and exciting games in the future. Clint and Bruce had combined their resources and gotten him the entire series of _Harry Potter_ books, which they told him were stories about a boy who could do magic. He was very grateful for this gift-such large books would provide him with something to occupy his time while he had to remain in bed.

They tore paper and laughed and thanked one another until there was only one gift under the tree. It was a small, flat rectangular box, wrapped in gold paper and tied with a red ribbon.

"By process of elimination," Tony Stark searched the mental catalogue of gifts he had been keeping in his eidetic-memory-enriched mind, "that is Thor's gift to Loki."

Steve picked up the box, glanced at the label, and then turned accusing eyes upon Tony.

"You looked at the tag."

Tony put his hands in the air in surrender. "Believe what you want, I know the truth and the truth is that I am just really, really good."

Steve shook his head in frustrated affection and reached up to hand the gift to Thor, who had remained sitting on the bed next to Loki throughout the entire gift-opening process. Thor then handed the package to Loki.

"Merry Christmas, brother."

His voice was full of warmth and humility, but when Loki looked into his brother's eyes, he saw excited anticipation there. Thor was obviously very much looking forward to his reaction to the gift.

Loki tore back the delicate, gold foil paper and removed an oakwood box from the wrappings. On it was carved the ancient runes of their own language, the language of Asgard. The ever-curious Tony knelt beside the bed, peering at the markings.

"What do they mean? Some kind of Old Norse proverb?"

"Stark, allow my brother to finish opening his gift or I shall smite you with lightning."

"Ooo, I'm so scared. The giant thunderous teddy bear is going to bring the wrath down on me."

As Thor and Tony quarreled playfully, Loki ran his hand over the meticulously detailed carvings. He became aware that his fingers were trembling slightly, and when he spoke, his voice held the same, barely perceptible tremor.

"_For my brother, my companion, and my dearest friend. May the sun shine always upon you and your endeavors, so that neither of us may ever have to walk in darkness. You have my love forever._"

Loki turned shining eyes upon Thor, finding himself speechless for the second time that morning.

"Okay, I'm thinking definitely not a proverb." Tony's voice broke the silence. He sounded impressed.

"Thor...I do not...I do not know what to say. It is lovely." Loki swiped a forearm over his eyes to whisk away the tears that begun to fall. Thor quickly took Loki's hands in his own and pressed them.

"Do not weep, little brother, even if it be in joy-I fear you will aggravate your cough. Besides, this is just the box. The real gift is inside."

Of course. Loki had been too engrossed in the message-probably the most eloquent thing to ever arise of his brother's imagination-to even notice the clasps. He pulled them open now, and titled back the hinged lid of the box to reveal a set of six throwing knives. The blades were curved, much like his old set, but when he lifted one, he could see how much detail had been put into their craftsmanship. The weight was perfectly balanced, the grips indented to fit his slight fingers, and each blade was engraved with the mark of his helm, the same mark that graced Thor's vambraces.

For a moment, Loki felt breathless, but not in the same, panicky way that his coughing fits had brought upon him. This was a breathlessness of the best kind.

"Thor, these are _beautiful_," he said when he could manage it. "But they were not forged on Midgard. These are of dwarfish make." He studied Thor for confirmation. To his surprise, his brother's cheeks were pink. Thor was actually blushing.

"Aye. I had them made last year, the last time we were on Asgard, in hopes that one day I could give them to you as a gift and have them be truly loved and appreciated-for they are meant to be a token of love. If I had given them to you then, I fear you would have laughed in my face, or..." Thor trailed off, glancing at the sharpened blades. Loki saw his hand unconsciously drift to his lower left side, where Loki knew he still bore a scar resulting from the last time Loki had used his favorite knife from his old set.

Suddenly the depth of importance of the gift struck Loki. Thor had had the knives and box made while Loki had held nothing but the deepest of hatred for him. The eloquent inscription on the box had been an outpouring from Thor's heart, not of what he had felt at that moment, but of what he had felt in the past and desperately hoped to feel in the future. But Thor was not the frivolous type-he would not have ordered the knives be forged if he did not honestly think that someday he could give them to Loki, restored as a brother and a friend. Thor had had faith in him all along.

With a little sob, Loki suddenly flung his arms around Thor. He felt Thor jump a bit in surprise, but then wrap his big, muscular, loving arms around Loki's slight frame. Loki buried his face in his brother's shoulder, warm, salty tears soaking his shirt, and whispered,

"Don't you _dare_ tell me not to cry."

"I won't," whispered Thor in return, rubbing his large hand up and down Loki's back. "I love you, Loki."

And somehow that meant more than all of the eloquent words in the world.

Their outpouring of love was interrupted by none other than Tony Stark whispering quite loudly,

"Can we give it to him now?"

"Wait! Can't you see they're having a moment?" That was a very reprimanding Steve.

Detaching himself from Thor and wiping his eyes, Loki turned rather embarrassedly to look at the rest of his friends.

"Give me what?"

"Your last gift." Tony grinned widely. He was bouncing like an excited puppy. Loki was a bit confused-he had thought that all Christmas presents were placed under the Christmas tree, and his little box of knives had been the last package that he could see.

"I couldn't hardly accept any more gifts. I am afraid I do not have anything for any of you. Not even you, Thor," he admitted sadly, turning to look back at his brother. Thor rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I have already told you Loki-to me, your recovery is more precious than any gift."

"Yeah, no one expects you to have gotten anything. You were sick," Bruce pointed out matter-of-factly.

"It's the giving part that makes our Christmas," said Steve with a smile.

"So you'll just have to get us twice as good gifts next year," Tony followed up. "Ow! Hey!" He rubbed his arm where Steve had smacked him.

"He's joking, Loki."

Loki smiled at his friends' antics. "Thank you all. I cannot express how grateful I am, for all of this..." He gestured to indicate the decorated room, the tree, the gifts, and his friends. All of them looked rather touched at his emotion, with the exception of, of course, Tony, who was bouncing even more now.

"You think you're grateful _now_? Wait 'til you see what Steve and I got you!" With that, he leapt to his feet and rushed out of the room.

"They got you a vanishing Iron Man. Best gift on the planet," said Clint dryly.

"How many Christmas cookies has he had this morning?" inquired Natasha.

"None. I was watching him," Bruce deadpanned. "I think this is just his built-in sugar high."

Tony soon returned baring an unwrapped, open-topped cardboard box. Loki squinted to try to see what was inside, but Tony saw him and reprimanded him.

"Uh-uh-uh. We're going to do this properly. Close your eyes."

Loki studied him curiously for a moment, but then obeyed.

"Now open your hands and put them on your lap."

Loki did so. There was a pause of several seconds, in which he heard some strange scratching noises and then the sound of the box being handed off, and then he felt something warm and small and furry being pressed into his hands. It felt almost like...could it be?

And then he heard it. That low, happy rumble, which he now knew was called a "purr". Loki's eyes shot open to behold a tiny black and white kitten, who was already nuzzling its way closer to him. He held out a finger, which the kitten sniffed hesitantly before rubbing its head affectionately against the extended appendage.

Loki finally tore his gaze from the adorable fluffball to look at Tony and Steve, both of whom were beaming widely.

"For me?" He sounded completely idiotic, he knew. _Of course_ the kitten was for him. But all of the wonderful surprises that this Christmas morning had brought were quickly sapping his ability to be coherent. Fortunately, it appeared as though his friends understood.

"Yep, he's all yours!" announced Tony proudly. "He's litter box trained and everything. Just try not to lose him in my tower. It's kinda big and he's kinda...not."

"Did he come from that pet store we visited?" Loki inquired, unable to stop running his hands through the silky fur. Every time he went in for another stroke, the purring grew louder.

"No. He came from the humane society." At Loki's questioning look, Steve explained. "It's a place where abandoned dogs and cats are brought in, fixed up, and adopted out to new homes. It's sort of a place where animals who've had a rough time can get a new start. This little guy was the last of his family to get adopted. They didn't think anyone wanted him." He finished his explanation and watched Loki closely.

"No one wanted him?" Loki could not help but notice how familiar that story sounded. A little baby who no one wanted, left out in the cold to die. Almost unconsciously, he pulled the kitten closer to himself.

Steve shook his head. "Not until we came along, anyway. We thought he sounded like the perfect kitten for you."

"He does. He's absolutely perfect. Thank you both so much. My very own kitten!" He chuckled, holding the little thing next to his heart and feeling the purr spread throughout his body, almost like a second heartbeat. "You don't have to feel alone anymore, little kitten. You have a family now. And I love you already."

"Do not forget his Uncle Thor." Thor's rumbling laughter sounded as he reached out. "May I hold him?"

A little reluctantly, Loki handed the kitten to his brother. The entirety of the kitten's body fit in Thor's enormous hand, with room to spare. The kitten closed its eyes contentedly as the thunder god ran a huge finger down its back, before suddenly reaching out and swiping the unsuspecting Thor with its claws.

"You are a mischievous little thing, are you not? Yes, you and my brother will get along quite well." Thor chuckled, ignoring the fact that he was bleeding a little.

"I guess I'd better stock up on Band-Aids," said Tony, eyeing his own finger, still slightly mutilated from the previous day.

"You're even a trickster, just like me," said Loki, smiling and taking the kitten back into his own arms before it could do any more bodily harm to his brother. "That is what I shall call you. Trickster."

"A fitting name," boomed Thor.

"Welcome to the family, Trickster," said Steve.

"Yes," said Loki softly. He raised his eyes to meet Thor's, and they exchanged warm smiles. Suddenly, Loki was sure that, even if he had not been ill, there was no possible way he could have had a better first Christmas morning than this. He was surrounded by friends, people he _belonged_ with, and that was something he had not felt in a long, long time. And Thor was at his side-his brother, who loved him more than all the worlds, just as Loki loved him back. He was _home_.

"Welcome home, Trickster," he whispered.


End file.
